I Am Pain

• Lacey Walker, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2016

There is only one God. Only one holy being that looks over all of earth’s creatures, living or dead. But there are many more ideas that have overseen the evolution of mankind. Many more emotional presences that crawl their way into the everyday life of millions of people worldwide. One of which, I am the worst. Some stories in which I enter are normal. A child, falling of his bike and scraping his knee. A mother, seen through pregnancy and child birth. But others, haunt any one to whose ears they reach, forever. True tales of torture, abuse, inhumane actions, slaughter, and pure unkindness. All of which, I have to be present. The outcome of some horribly distraught person’s mistake. I am the real inflicter. Hiding in the deepest darkest depths of a victim’s mind, I conquer all other feelings, until I am all that remains. My every day agenda is a repetitive nightmare filled with blood, screaming and tears. But alas, my physical form is child play compared to the mental version. It is one thing to die an excruciating death, but to live an excruciating life, nothing compares. Waking up every morning, only because sleep will no longer come. Getting out of bed, only because you are forced to. Smiling, only to provide false security. Lying to yourself, and others, constantly. Being robbed of all happiness, an empty shell of what you once were. Stuck at the bottom of a well, up to your knees in sadness, depression and false hope, with no ladder to aid your escape. Standing on the edge of your mind’s canyon, wanting more than ever to jump, but never falling forward. Nothing to look forward to, nothing to enjoy, nothing to love. Another of reality’s targets, hidden in a maze grief. Lost amongst the city lights. Having nothing left, and being so motionless, that the endless black abyss beyond your current dimensional plane looked more inviting than ever. Walking arm in arm, with death, down a backstreet of lost and forgotten dreams. Take it from me, my friend, as I have been the main attribute to all situations alike, misery is the genuine executioner. I am what they see when they close their eyes. I am what they feel when they open them. I am the shadow, lurking in the corner of their brain. I am the evil, atop my shrine, of which all my sufferers unwilling worship. I am the notion, of which my fatalities mourn. I am the burden of sorrow. I am the breaker of souls. I am the digger of graves. I am pain.